


Tough it Out

by Jayssienda



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: DDADDS, F/M, First Work Here, I'm kinda scared of making myself ooc, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Slightly - Freeform, add more tags as time goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayssienda/pseuds/Jayssienda
Summary: "Isn't he the kid that tried to Cask of Amontillado Vega's son?""And I'm the kid who talked my way out of suspension.""Fair enough."-- --Alternatively Titled: Smol Teen Tries to get the Goth's Attention, Fails Drastically.





	1. Estranged Exchanges

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to my shameless self-insert x Lucien Bloodmarch because I respect that DDADDS and the daddies within are for the m|m community to take solace in. Lucien's sexuality, however, is a coin-toss of a headcanon. I'm not saying he's straight but I have such a geeky crush on him and I need to project it somewhere, o k a y.
> 
> This is also the first time I'm writing and posting something online in a few years, let alone on somewhere that has respectable "peers." I don't know, I've tried.

   Jocelyn sits in the passenger seat, a piece of paranormal fiction in her hands. They, she and her father, were close to their new residence, a small cul-de-sac in the little town of Maple Bay. The brunette girl has one leg crossed by her lap, the other on the dashboard. Her body is leaning back as she reads the thick novel. So absorbed, she doesn't notice when they pull into the driveway. And even then, it's the fact that she nearly falls out of the car once the support to her knee is gone that really "wakes her up."  
  
   Seeing her dad giggle like a little kid, Jocelyn struggles out of her seatbelt to push his shoulder gently. "You absolute ass!" She exclaims, pulling her book off of the dash to shut the door. Stepping in time with her dad, the two of them clomp up the concrete driveway. The tattooed man fumbles in his pockets, internal struggle writing on his face as he can't find his key ring.  
  
   "Is it still in the car?" the shorter girl asks, sparing her father a quick glance before continuing to evaluate the neighborhood just down the way. Whatever he does isn't her business for the moment, as she sees a cute Goth kid leaving his... Black house.  
  
   Probably stays really warm in the winter, though.  
  
   "I'm dense, Jay, not stupid," the disheveled man chides, rummaging through not only his pockets but also his bag.  
  
   If she wasn't so entranced by the aesthetic of the goth kid down the street, she'd help her father in a heartbeat. Of course, she was entranced, and therefore pretty much worthless at that time. The guy looks up from his phone. Facial piercings and eyeliner galore, mixed with some purple eyeshadow. With the heavenly way it was blended together, definitely a Kat Von D palette. Smooth, cute, and a good taste in makeup.  
  
   The only thing that could put her down was her anxiety, in a nearly impossible feat because there was no way he was going to look up any further. That's fucking absurd and... Oh, my god, he's looking up right at her and he could see her staring right at him like he was the only thing in the world at that moment. The short girl blushes to the shade of her red lipstick, adjusting the cropped tank over her chubby frame, pulling and twisting with her hands for something to do. Jocelyn looks away, frazzled, but she swears the guy with the silver hair smirks as he walks along.  
  
   A rough shake to her shoulder makes the brunette jolt slightly, shooting her face towards the street.  
  
   Nothing. No trace of a human being. Whipping around, almost slipping out of her faux-leather peep-toes, her father has his hand in the air, surrendering. She was going to smack him on the arm, he knew it. Once, he had worked her so hard onto her last nerve that she smacked him, multiple times, on the same arm. In the same place.  
  
   It resembled a sunburn in the shape of her hand.  
  
_So worth it. Always so worth it._  
  
   “Earth to Jocelyn. You see something cool, or are you just spacing out?” Kim asks his daughter, bemusement painted on his face.  
  
   “Cute boy, if you really wanna know,” Jay mumbles out.  
  
   “What?”  
  
   “Cubing some stuff. Pretty big numbers considering how long you’re taking. Find your keys?”  
  
   Slumping into himself, her father groans out his defeat, “You were right. They were in the car.”  
  
   Smirking, Jay takes her own pair of keys off of one of her belt loops. Doing the motions, she opens the whitewashed wood. Her father looks on, disbelieving of the monster he raised. “What?” she asks him. “I’m always prepared. Now get inside, or soon we’re going to be cooling the whole world, and even I’m not ready for that bill.”

 

* * *

 

  
   Arranging knick-knacks on the shelves as impromptu book stands is, albeit the essential air of simplicity, a tedious task for everyone involved.  
  
   Jocelyn is the only one involved. It's a really tedious task. Don't fucking ask. The ADHD demanded it, okay?  
  
   Kim was out in the garage, apparently doing some ~manly~ stuff. She'd assume he was putting his workbenches together. Considering he was mostly alone for sixteen years, it made a good amount of sense that he wasn't sure how to raise a girl, let alone a child, period. That left Jay to pick up the interior decorating because he sucked at it.  
  
   Oh. That makes her think of her mother. There goes the scab that had grown in the past couple of years. Needs some anti-biotic ointment and a bandage. Sticky bandage, not one of those damned ace bandages that she always uses when she fucks up her ankles. Man, her ankles -- Her ankles dictate nap time.  
  
   _What? The fuck? Was that thought?_  
  
   Sighing, the girl stands up to her full height, rolling and cracking her shoulders, neck, wrists, ankles, whatever. Ready to flop on the couch, Jay's glasses almost fall off as the doorbell rings, jumping a couple feet into the air. A set of three hearty knocks follows. Blinking once, twice, three times, the brunette entertains the idea of demons -- three knocks to mock the Holy Trinity -- before dusting the nonexistent dirt from her jeans. Opening the door may not be in her best intentions, she notes, but someone would have her head if she was rude to any visitor on their first day in a new house. With a sweet smile, she opens the door, ready for your average-Joe with his significant other to welcome them to the neighborhood.  
  
   With a plastered smile, sweeter than sugar, she pulls open the door.  
  
   The guy, blond with blue eyes, looked like the white picket fence church-goer type. Damn. Actually, he reminds her of a character from something. Chad.... Kensington. Chad Kensington. With the pullover around his neck and the pink shirt, they could be identical.  
  
   Jay wants to laugh so badly. _But it's impolite to laugh at people_ , she mocks Kim internally, _even your friends_.  
  
   "Hi," the shorter girl says, "How can I help you?" One way you can help me is by getting the hell off of my property, for starters.  
  
   "Hello, Miss! I'm Joseph Christenson, youth minister at the local church," damn it, he really is the picket-fence all-American guy. Probably only has two dogs and a female golden retriever named Sadie. "I'm also one of your neighbors from the cul-de-sac down the block."  
  
   Damn it! Good impressions are a must, okay, but have more than good impressions on your neighbors seems to be the general consensus.  
  
   "It's great to meet you!" he continues before pulling around a plate full of chocolate chip cookies. Jay can do that, no problem. "My daughter and I made you all some cookies. I did most of the work, though," he coaxes the green-eyed girl into conjoined laughter.  
  
  He, Joseph, is laughing wholeheartedly. Good naturedly.  
  
   _I, on the other hand, am anxious laughing_ , she groans to herself.  
  
   "Anyways, Mrs..."  
  
   "Goss. Jocelyn Goss. You can call me Jay, that's just fine, too."  
  
   "Mrs. Goss, I wanted to invite you and your husband over this Saturday for a barbeque, get you acquainted with the neighborhood. Of course, your husband is invited, too. Where did he get off to?"  
  
   If there had been any type of drink in her mouth, it would have without a doubt ended up drenching Mr. Christensen. Whether she did a spit-take and most of it ended up on him or she poured it over his head is up for debate.  
  
   Preppy ass, looking ass... "I-- uhm. Oh," the short girl stutters out, wildly grasping for her vocabulary back, "He's my father. My dad. Not my spouse. Actually, I don't think my dad has ever been married. If he has, it was probably one of those _What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas_ things _._ He's getting close to his forties and he still lives the frat boy lifestyle. Disconcerting, really. Yeah, I only live with him because I'm not technically eighteen yet and my mom died a few years ago. Court order," stopping, her eyes widen. Too much vocabulary. -- _Take it back, take it back!_ \-- "Shit, wait, sorry. That was a lot at once, oh my gods. I'm so sorry, I'm an anxious mess so this kinda just happens." Throughout her ramblings, it seemed that Joseph had let her words sink in. Noticing, Jay struggles for some sort of rebound, some sort of grip to pull herself off of the side of the cliff.  
  
   When there isn't, well, she dashes all hopes of the thought and floods the tense silence with her words once more, "Let me go get my dad so you two can work out the kinks, yeah? Urm, I, yeah. Thanks for the cookies and it was nice meeting you, sir... 'Kaythanksbye." And despite being overweight, she bolts like a fucking racehorse straight after the starting shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to Comment, Critique, etc.! I love getting input on things, and don't be afraid to point out something my beta or I have missed!


	2. Coffee Shop Woes and Bad Mathematics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chai tea is great. The cute goth boy is great. Putting them together gives her anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a day late and I only just made the schedule. I don't have the use of data on my phone currently, so I had to wait for a spot with half-decent wifi. because of that, I got to upload late on a Saturday night after I got home. Sorry for the delay, you guys! Cheers, though! <3

   Three hours and the awkward delivering of a now-empty cookie plate later, Jay pulls on the finishing touch to her outfit, a plain and simple black denim jacket to match her mid-thigh length skirt. Looking into a full-length mirror, her green eyes roam over what she's decided to wear -- a gray tank with her life motto of "Everything Hurts & I'm Dying," the black denim skirt matched with a jacket, and some translucent thigh-highs under that -- and deems it presentable. Now, the easiest part of a night with friends: Transportation.

   "Dad!" she calls down the stairs, leaning over the dark oak banister, "Is it okay if I take the car to meet some friends at a coffee shop and go out to the mall for dinner with them?"

   Her answer is nonverbal and attributed only to the fact that the jangling of keys whizzes through the air. With the finesse of a libero, she catches the ring with one hand and fist pumps the air, swiftly moving down the stairs. Jay barely has her shoes on by the time she's outside and into the car, starting the engine. Lining up a playlist via Bluetooth, she hears the notes of old-school Ke$ha blasting into her being.

   The music doesn't last long, if only because the quaint little coffee shop is just down the street. The car is more for getting from here to point B, aka the mall, anyway.

   "The Coffee Spoon," she mumbles to herself, checking the time on her phone, "I'm a few minutes early. Cool." A pride flag sticker is on the outside of the glass door, small and noninvasive, yet adorable.

 _This is the cutest thing, oh my god._ The interior of the shop is cozy and welcoming. _Quaint. This is the definition of quaint._  Vinyl line the walls and various national flags are tacked to the spaces. A man, young and hip-looking, sits on a stool behind the counter. He looks up when the bell rings, giving her a tiny, albeit wobbly, smile.

   "Hey, I'm Mat, and welcome to The Coffee Spoon! Can I get you something?"

   "My soul back," she deadpans, eyes neutral and voice flat. It takes a minute, mouth having moved faster than her mind before Jay really understands what she had said. The realization dawns, however, and she wants to scream, She actually does internally, hands flying over her mouth and turning into a deer in headlights. "I am so sorry -- that response was a reflex. Like, I'm so used to doing that and it's just such a habit and I really need to stop with this habit but I can't because when I try to be aware of it nothing happens because I'm aware but that's the definition of habit isn't it? Like, --" remaking eye contact with Mat the barista, Jocelyn just stops talking. He seems to be some form of concerned, the emotions raising all over his face. "A Chai Antwoord with extra honey, please. Keep the change."

  The brunette girl stands near the counter for a couple of minutes, attempting to pay little attention to anyone else in the shop. Jay gets her ceramic mug and finds a seat out of a plush teal chair, taking a sip and leaning her head back. The group of kids near her chortle and giggle, sounding like a group of hyenas as one of them groans in embarrassment.

   “Dude!” one of them yells, and she hears a thwacking sound. Like someone was hit on the arm. Serves them right, by the sounds of it.

   The bell above the door goes off then, sweet and charming. Her friend Natalia walks in, blue jeans and a baseball tee, long blonde hair cascading behind her back. Nat is pretty. Everyone knows, they just get put off by the memes and the yelling and the awkwardness the group has.

   “Nat!” Jay calls, raising an arm into the air, casually as she can while _yelling across a coffee shop_. The blonde pulls out a seat at the table, smiling at her older friend. Before there’s any time for awkward conversation, the bell rings again and a rambunctious couple of girls step in. _Jeanie and Nanami, my chicken taco and my wife respectively._  
   We love each other, I swear. They spot the other two right away, heading their little chair grouping. Jocelyn grabs her stuff and stands, motioning to a table not too far away with four chairs. The only qualm is that they need to pass a group of Goth kids, apparently.

   “You guys call _me_ Goth constantly, what does it matter that we pass a group of them?” the oldest of them all complains, throwing her hands into the air. Minimalistically, though, because this isn’t her bedroom and she can’t be extensively extravagant until she gets back there. Rolling her eyes, she links her arms with that of Nanami. The two of them step in sync, passing the crowded table. A couple of girls with some dyed hair chat in a cluster around the outside of the circle. Pretty girls, ignoring the guys talking about some other chick like she isn’t a human being. On the bri--

    _No! Not on the bright side! That’s him that’s him that’s h i m! She shouts in her head. He’s one of the guys doing that! Don’t notice don’t notice, just keep walking---_

   “Jay?” Nanami questions, “You alright there? Sounds like you’re about to hyperventilate.”

   “Just. Keep. Walking.” Jay swallows hard, pointedly avoiding eye contact with everyone present, continuing on her way. And as much as she wants to walk a little farther and a little faster at the same time, she keeps her pace and attention the same when the loud banter declines into soft murmurs. Eyes pour into her very being and she can’t breathe, oh gods it’s hard to inhale and exhale but she can’t hyperventilate in public, hell no.

   So the girl takes a deep breath and turns her head, brown locks flitting around her face as she moves. Her green eyes roam over all of them, making sure to not show some sort of response, “Hey, you guys need something?”

   It’s tense. For them, at least, but she can see it in their body language, how they stiffen and look away from her predatory eyes.

   The silence last for a hot minute before Jocelyn sighs out a breath and rolls her eyes, “C’mon, Nami, I’m down for another chai latte before we head out. Guys! Table’s over here, stop looking at memes for half a fucking second!” she giggles then taking a seat facing the crowd of Goth kids.

    _Two can play this game, she tells herself, It’s a great way to get over a crush, right? See how they interact with their friends._

  
   Jocelyn, as a senior, technically has a year off of math after she took Algebra in the eighth grade. Because of this, it’s weird for her to get back into the swing of things with regular math: adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing. Not deciding whether or not _If 1 + 1 = 3, then a dog is a reptile._ is a valid statement. (Hint, it apparently _is!_ ) However, even she can count the number out times she’s caught the pretty boy goth kid staring at her while she chatted time away over another chai. Still extra honey, but it’s on some ice this time, so there’s some type of variety coming into play.

   His eyes have flicked to her tongue as she used it to guide her straw, her hair as she moves it around her fingers, basically any part of her body that seems to be moving at all.

   “What time is it?” Nat asks, pulling out her phone to check, “Oh, okay. Well, that one movie starts soon--”

   “Is it the one with the talking dogs and all of the animals or is it some cheesy vampire flick with way too much NSFW?” Jay asks, resting her head on the palm of her hand.

   “I don’t really care as long as we can pop into that Chinese buffet place after,” Jeanie says, taking a sip of her dark coffee.

   Jocelyn snorts around her straw, almost choking when an inhale brought too much tea into the straw, and right down the wrong pipe. The brunette coughs excessively, pulling her exposed elbow in front of her face, attempting to not spew up anything… Unsavory. Finally regaining her breath, Jay looks to her friends, dawning an expression of disdain, “Considering I just about died,” she jokes, emphasizing ‘died,” “I’d enjoy seeing the talking animal movie. I haven’t seen a good one of those in years, so, yeah.”

   Apparently, that’s good enough for everyone else as they grab their things and pay for the varied pastries and drinks they ordered. Jocelyn tips Mat a ten -- his chai is the best thing she’s had in _y e a r s._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to Comment, Critique, etc.! I love getting input on things, and don't be afraid to point out something my beta or I have missed!
> 
> So, I'm going to update this every other Friday. Sounds good? Because it sounds fine to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my babe Kylie for being my beta and supporting my love for Lucien. Check her out! : https://kylietheproxy263.tumblr.com/


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